It's always bad, your first time
by NoLongerWritingHere
Summary: Oliver Wood has been waiting for his first time for ages, and when it finally comes, it's no where near as good as he had hoped.


**It's always bad, your first time...**

****

It had been an early bedtime, the night before. But it had been worth it.

Oliver Wood arrived bright and early down on the Quidditch pitch after a good drink of orange juice and a small bowl of cereal and a muffin. Now, with a stack of toast in one hand, he mounted his broom and kicked off. The game wasn't due to start for another hour and a half yet, but he couldn't wait. He felt pumped, so a little training beforehand couldn't hurt, right?

Oliver sighed happily as the chilly wind whipped through his hair, closing his eyes for a long moment as he simply enjoyed being up in the air, alone.

Something that he savoured. He didn't get many opportunities to fly alone anymore, usually they were out there to train or play a game, or if he grabbed his broom someone else would see him in the dorm or common room and invite themselves along. And then there was the load of homework...

Was there anything better than flying? Wood shrugged at his own thought. He was well fed and had a snack along with him, the field was his alone and he had his first match to play and win that morning, the Quidditch robes were a bit tight though around the shoulders, but his mum would fix those up during the break.

Maybe he was too obsessed. It was a surprisingly chilly morning, the sun was still rising and the clouds were moving overhead fast, along with the gale. Most would still be in bed or curled up in front of the fire and yet here he was, out already and desperate for any extra moment he could get on the field. He couldn't imagine getting paid for this, and yet the chosen few in their world were. There were professional teams who got to do this every day of their lives, do nothing but train and play games professionally. That's what Oliver was aiming for, and that's why he was out so early.

He stayed out until the captain appeared and called him down. The rest of the students would be coming down the grounds soon, and the teams were having a final talk in their change rooms, and only that thought brought Oliver down from the air. His first game. It felt so real and yet like a dream at the same time.

This was it. He kicked off the pitch with the rest of the team and shot into the air. Their cloaks rustled and flew out behind them along with the cheer from the red and gold quarter of the stadium and Oliver shot to his goal keeping position, shielding his eyes from the sunlight that had finally broken through the clouds as he regarded the pitch in front of him. He felt powerful. He was who was chosen to guard the goals, and damn good he was at it too. He would become the best Hogwarts had ever seen or die trying, besides, what would a life without Quidditch be anyway? Not much of a life, that was damn sure. He flexed his fingers and watched as the golden Snitch was released and then as both teams shot out across the pitch, marking the person they were matched to and diving for the Quaffle as the teams tried to work the balls down the field. The other team, Ravenclaw, were in possession of the ball and were coming his way, fast. He could tell what they were going to do though, and although he remained slightly to the left of the goals, he darted right just as they did as well and caught the quaffle easily, getting a cheer from Gryffindor and his team. He threw it back down the pitch to the closest team member and grinned to himself. Was there anything better than this?

A week later he came too, slightly confused as to what had happened.

"You took a bludger to the head, mate." Percy's younger brother, one of the twins informed him, dressed ridiculously as a Gryffindor Lion. Oliver struggled to rest on his elbows up in bed, trying to make sense of what had happened.

"One of the other team 'didn't like your smirk' and went to wipe it off your face." the other twin, George maybe, added. "You guys won the game though, no worries!"

Oliver fell back onto his pillow with a sigh. His first Quidditch match, and he had missed nearly all of it.

What a life.

* * *

This is a challenge for **FictionNET** ( http / sycotic . org / fnet ) If you're looking for a nifty (mostly based on Harry Potter) writing forum, join Fnet and say that **Keladryie** sent you. It's seriously worth it.

This is written for the challenge: **HP Challenge 10 - Get active for once!**

Under these guidelines: _We've never had a Quidditch fic, have we? _

_Well, here we are. Write a **one-shot** of Hogwarts and Quidditch, a game, or a training session, or team pickings, or anything really, but it must be something to do with Quidditch at Hogwarts, no fancy other professional team ;D _

_And try not to focus on Gryffindor, ...you can if you must, just not Harry really, we see way more than enough of them and him in the books. Try to do another house, so we can get their aspect of why they kinda suck, I mean Gryffindor always seem to win. _

_So, get your quills scratching (someone shoot me) and detail what you think Quidditch is all about at Hogwarts! _

_The fic **must** be longer than 750 words, but the length and structure is otherwise entirely up to you!_


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